


Green and Gold

by FluffAndTea



Category: Real Person Fiction
Genre: Avengers: Infinity War Part 1 (Movie) Spoilers, Bobby is a cutiepie, F/M, Hiddleswift happened but we are adults and we can cope, I'm deeply in denial, Tom misses Loki, blatant self insert, loki is a little shit
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-05-06
Updated: 2018-05-06
Packaged: 2019-05-03 03:14:30
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,673
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14559612
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/FluffAndTea/pseuds/FluffAndTea
Summary: After the emotional trauma that was Infinity War, I needed some reassurance that everything was going to be alright. And like so many things in life, if you want them done right, you have to do them yourself. Kevin Feige mentioned that shooting *that* scene was pretty emotional for Tom, so this is my fantasy of how the aftermath could have been, and a bit of wishful thinking (i.e., him having someone to come home to). Spoilers for IW, obviously. Big, fat, spoilers.





	Green and Gold

**Author's Note:**

> I most likely don't have the correct timeline in regards to Bobby and the shoots and reshoots for IW and Avengers 4, bear with me. The female character in this is left deliberately vague, so feel free to insert yourselves (we all do it, no shame). This is not beta’d. Excuse any typos and grammatical errors. I would love to hear what you think!
> 
> For my girls in the group chat, Sabrina in particular. The sun will shine on us again.

_**Green and Gold** _

 

„Okay cut, that's the one! And that's a wrap for Tom, everybody!“

As the set erupted in cheers, Chris helped him up and gave him a hug so tight that Tom could almost feel his ribs cracking. Hemsworth Hugs tended to do that to you if you weren’t careful. He had been positively giddy just minutes before, joking with his co-stars, laughing and jumping up and down to be sufficiently breathless for the scene, but now he felt like he was about to cry. This was it. There would be scenes for Avengers 4, but the script said they were all flashbacks to an earlier version of Loki. There would be no new stories for him. No more room for this character to grow. The redemption arc had turned out to be a dead end. Kevin had already told him that this time, Loki’s death really would be permanent. „Don't get your hopes up,“ he had said. And Tom didn't. Kevin had delivered the news gently, almost like a doctor informed someone that a loved one wasn't going to make it, and Tom had nodded. He had been calm and professional and even a bit excited because that meant new things, new characters, a new chapter, right?

Then why did he feel like shit?

He vaguely felt Josh give him a friendly pat on the shoulder and gratefully accepted the bottle of water someone handed him. There were mentions of cake in the catering tent for anyone who wanted to celebrate a bit after shooting had ended, but he barely registered the invitation. Chris shot him a quizzical look.

„You alright, mate?“

„I'm fine,“ Tom lied, „just exhausted.“

„Right,“ Chris replied with one raised eyebrow. Tom was thankful he didn't push the issue further in front of everybody, but it was clear his friend could see through the facade. He always did. No doubt there would be a phone call and several texts later. A few more handshakes and hugs until finally, they let him leave. Tom walked back to his trailer in a daze, closed the door behind him and sighed deeply. He knew that he should get out of his costume, have a shower, get some sleep before the flight back home. But somehow, he couldn't bring himself to do it. Taking off the costume for the last time would mean saying goodbye for real. He realized with a sudden stab of almost physical pain that he did not want to. This constant shadow, as he had called Loki in an interview once, could he really cast him aside like that? Just hang the costume up, get into some comfy t-shirt and that was it?

 _You can‘t walk on the plane like this, my friend_.

\- _Watch me_ , his inner voice replied defiantly. To whom, he could not say.

He took out his phone and sat down on the little couch that still had his notes and script sides on it, along with a pillow and a copy of Neil Gaiman‘s "Norse Mythology". Scrolling through his most recent facetime calls, he found the name he was looking for and pressed "call". Only then did he remember that time zones were a thing and immediately felt guilty. It was what, 6 am in London? Surely she was asleep. He shouldn't wake her. It was selfish. He could wait a few more hours. But before he could disconnect the call again, the person at the other end had already picked it up, and her sleepy face came into view. Judging from the mess of pillows behind her, she was indeed in bed.

„Heyyy,“ she croaked, voice still rough from sleep, and ran a hand through her messy hair. „Everything okay? You’re early. Or late. What time is it where you are?“

Tom smiled. Any other person would have just pressed 'decline' on their phone when someone called so early on a Saturday morning, and rightfully so. Not her, though. _I don't deserve you_.

„Yeah. I'm so sorry to wake you, I've forgotten about the time. 10 pm here. Long day. Forgive me, I'll call you back later.“

„No no no, it's fine, don't worry about it. I'm awake,“ she replied while rubbing the sleep out of her eyes and rearranging the blanket into a more comfortable position. Then she looked up again and smiled.

„Hi.“

„Hi,“ Tom echoed and felt himself relax.

„You brought Loki,“ she remarked when she noticed his outfit. 

„We just had our last scene. I couldn't bring myself to let him go just yet.“

Understanding flickered across her face.

„Talk to me.“

It was a simple request, and Tom felt a sudden rush of gratitude. He wouldn't have to search for the right words to explain why he felt like celebrating and mourning at the same time. She could read him like an open book, even over the phone with thousands of miles between them.

It had started when the dog-sitting agency had sent her over so she could get to know Bobby before her first longer assignment. They ended up talking for four hours, Bobby snoring in her lap the whole time. There was an ease and a feeling of relaxation when Tom talked to her that made him want to see her again as soon as possible. From that day on, he often invited her to go on walks with him and the puppy, first with the excuse of getting familiar with Bobby's routines, but soon the business relationship turned into genuine friendship, so much that she refused to accept any payment when she really did look after Bobby while he was away for work.

There had been pictures in the Daily Mail of them on one of their long walks and one of her leaving his house, along with the usual speculations. She had been nothing but graceful and perfectly polite to the reporters who showed up at her flat the next day. She had shut them down and not given them a single comment, and Tom had felt stupidly proud of her for that. She wasn't intimidated by who he was, she didn't care about awards ceremonies or press tours, she didn't swoon meeting his more famous friends, and most importantly, she took none of his bullshit. That was the best part. She didn't hesitate to call him out when he was being a prick, and she was honest when he asked for her opinion on things. One day she made him listen to _Getaway Car_ from start to finish in the kitchen, singing along at the top of her lungs, claiming he "needed to call his power back from beyond the Whatever". That was when he knew he was dangerously close to falling in love. And then he had had to leave for weeks on end, calls and texts his only lifeline to this wonderful island of sanity back home.

His friends and even Luke – ever-watchful Luke – urged him to take her out to dinner when he got back, not just takeaway after a walk with Bobby. A proper dinner in a posh restaurant. He never got around to asking her. He should, he thought. Soon. _Don't screw this up, Hiddleston. Get your shit together. You need this. You need her._ But Gods, he was terrified.

„Tom?“

He had been lost in thought.

„Yeah, sorry. Talking. Let’s talk.“

And so they talked. Or rather, she listened and he talked. He felt lighter somehow, and at the same time more grounded, the longer the call went on. He noticed the little things; the way she changed position every now and then, how she took the phone with her into the kitchen to get a glass of water, the fact that she hadn't taken off her makeup the night before and there was a little smudge of mascara under her right eye. He found it endearing. But he didn't want to ask her out over the phone.

 _You’re stalling, my friend_.

\- _Hell yes_ , he admitted. 

~~~

 

Twenty-three hours later, Tom arrived back home, jetlagged and exhausted. The plane ride had been uneventful, but he hadn't been able to sleep. Too many thoughts were occupying his head, and while he had left Loki's clothes back on set, somehow, he couldn't seem to shake him off that easily. When he finally arrived at his house, his driver helped him carry his bags to the front door. She was already standing there in the open doorway, a very enthusiastic Bobby bouncing at her feet. Looking over her shoulder, Tom saw the key he had given her lying on the kitchen table. (As if he wasn't planning to ask her to keep it.) He walked in the door, dropped his bags, and without saying a word, pulled her into a hug, burying his face in her hair.

„Hey, welcome home,“ she said softly, and this time, he couldn’t fight the tears any longer. She just held him, running her hands through his hair, and let him cry, closing the front door with her foot. 

„I’m sorry, this is ridiculous,“ he sighed after a while while wiping his tears away. Strangely, he didn’t feel any shame about crying in front of her. She shook her head.

„It’s not. He’s been a part of you for so long. It’s okay to mourn.“

„It fucking hurts.“

That had come out more forcefully than expected, but she didn’t flinch. Instead, she pulled him into the kitchen, handed him a tissue, and did what Brits always did when there was a crisis: she made tea.

For a while, neither of them said anything. They sat at the small breakfast table, the ticking of the kitchen clock and the clinking of their spoons the only sound. It was a comfortable and comforting silence. Finally, Tom spoke. 

„I tried to leave Loki behind, but it’s hard. He might be with me for a while.“

„He’s always welcome“, she replied.

Tom flashed her a lopsided grin, which she returned.

_Good god, man, ask her already!_

He was tired, hadn’t slept in almost two days, was emotionally exhausted and besides, she looked ready to go home. Didn’t she? She had effectively been housesitting and dogsitting without complaining for weeks, only returning to her flat to get fresh clothes, sleeping in the guest room and holding down the fort when she really didn't have to. She deserved a break. To sleep in her own bed, make breakfast in her own kitchen, without having to entertain a puppy that wasn't even hers and to watch out for paparazzi who wanted to catch her entering the code to his front gate.

But he had to ask. He would never forgive himself if he didn’t. And so he cleared his throat. 

„Listen… would you stay for a while? I understand if you want to go home as quickly as possible, it’s been weeks and I’m sure you miss your flat. But I’d love to spend a bit more time with you. Even though I’m a right mess. I mean it’s fine if you want to leave-“

„Fuck’s sake, Tom.“

Being interrupted, Tom looked up to see that she had crossed her arms and was giving him  _The Look_. The one that told him he was being an idiot. He knew it well.

„My flat is a mess, my flatmate is a Grade A cockwomble, and I’ve fallen in love with your dog. I’m not going anywhere. Not unless you kick me out“, she added and held his gaze.

„Bobby stole your heart, hm?“ he smiled.

„Well duh“, she shot back, gesturing to the pup sleeping between their feet on the kitchen floor.

Tom swallowed.

„Is there a bit left for me? Of your heart, I mean?“

 _Bold move, Hiddleston._  

 _\- Shut up, I’m trying to be romantic here_.

She blinked a few times, then a smile spread across her face. It was the most beautiful thing he had ever seen.

„I mean, if Bobby wants to share...“ She locked eyes with him, her expression a bit more serious now. "You have it. All of it. You've had it for quite some time. I just wasn't sure if you wanted it too."

Her voice broke a bit at the last sentence, but it was all it took for Tom to stand up, walk to her, and pull her up from her chair so he could take her into his arms. 

 

Tom didn’t take her out to a fancy restaurant, at least not that day. They were too occupied with kissing and making up for lost time. She insisted on staying by his side until he had fallen asleep, then snuck out to get takeout from the Indian restaurant down the road and returned before he even woke up. She ended up staying for almost a week.

There were days when he was sad and when the realization of losing Loki came crashing down on him, but she was there to lift his spirits, go on long walks with him, drink way too much coffee at their favorite coffee shop, or throw water ballons at paparazzi (her idea, not his). She kept her flat in a less posh part of London, but she also kept the keys to his house. And truth be told, most of the time she was with Tom anyway. (Bobby was miserable when she wasn’t there, so it was for animal welfare, obviously.)

A couple months later, there were reshoots and interviews and an exhausting whirlwind press tour through four countries and even more time zones. He had to pretend to know nothing about the plot when talking to the press. And while it was taxing, it was okay, because Tom had her to come home to. It made all the difference.

 

~~~

 

The phone call came a couple of weeks after the premiere. Infinity War had opened with a record-smashing weekend, leaving even Star Wars in the dust. Fans were devastated at the body count, and there were even petitions for Loki to return. Tom registered all of it with a grateful smile. The pain was still there, like a dull ache now. When he saw Kevin Feige’s number on the screen of his phone, he frowned.

Half an hour later, he had to sit down. The phone still at his ear, he heard Kevin’s voice.

„…that is, if you want. I mean there’s still stuff to sort out with your agent and with Disney and everyone and we will have to come up with a contract since your old one is up, and I have to find a director for the solo movie, so it would be just the reshoots at this point and the other stuff later and—“

„Kevin,“ he interrupted him.

„Yeah. I know, it’s a lot and I’m sorry I’m springing this on you like this, but—“

„ _Kevin_.“

„Yes?“

„I’m in.“

There were some more things they talked about, but Tom almost couldn’t concentrate because he was so happy. The Trickster would be back. Of course he would be. He couldn’t say what hat changed Feige’s mind, and to be honest, he didn’t really care.

When she came home, he told her right away. She gave a happy squeal and jumped into his arms, making him stagger backwards momentarily.

„I'm so happy for you!“ she beamed at him. „Both of you,“ she then added with a laugh, „I knew the little shit wasn’t gone forever!“

Tom laughed out loud and pulled her into his arms again before kissing her. As he was holding her, a movement in the corner of his eye startled him. At first he thought it was Bobby, but then he realized it was just their reflections in the hallway mirror. She must have sensed him tensing up, because she pulled back and studied his face.

„You okay?“

Tom smiled.

„Yeah.“

He hugged her tighter and looked over her shoulder in the mirror again. There was a flash of green and gold as his reflection smiled back.

And then winked at him.

 

 

 

The End


End file.
